by A. C. Mason
“Why would you take such a risk after what happened–what I did–what you believe of me?” Part of him wanted to believe she cared about him. Or, even hated him. That was something, an emotion of some sort.
“I will tell you everything. But I have one request of you. I don’t care what happens to me when the dust settles, but I do care about what happens to Peter. Promise me you’ll do everything in your power to help him.”
What on earth could she be going on about? And more importantly, what did she know? “I’ll do what I can.” Which honestly, was minimal, given he was a person of interest in an assassination attempt on the president. Could Kirsten truly believe he’d try to hurt her–a friend? He turned onto a side road out of the city into Rock Creek Park.
“Thank you. I know you will make good on your word.” She glanced over at him. “You asked me my reason for taking the risk. I know you did not intend to kill Jean. It’s not in your nature to kill without cause. I cannot sit by and watch them bury you in lies.”
“They, who, Leera? Rowley and his men...” Just ahead there was an opening in the woods a truck could squeeze in and hide behind.
“No. The government. I don’t even care that you were seeing me because of the CIA investigation into my brother and Rowley. How can they turn on you like this?”
Under the coverage of the trees, he turned off the engine. “What did you just say? I don’t work for the CIA. I sometimes do contract work for the military and Homeland Security.” A cement block restroom building would provide him a place to speak with her face-to-face and keep her safe. As he shifted, the guns in the shoulder holsters jabbed into him. He grabbed the crowbar from under his seat and shoved matches and a candle into his pocket.
“Homeland Security? That isn’t possible.” She shook her head, lifting her hand to her forehead.
“Come, I don’t want to leave the truck running and call attention to us.” He jumped out, slammed the door and walked over to the women’s restroom. Threading the metal pry bar into the loop of the lock, he used his body weight to jimmy the mechanism then tossed the broken steel to the side. “In here.” He struck the match and lit the candle, dripped wax by the knob and fixed the base to it.
“Why don’t you believe I work for Homeland Security?” The draw to her physically created an ache throughout his body. The urge for human flesh no longer excited him. No part of him wanted to consume her. Was he finally completely human? A man?
“Well, if that is the case, then why doesn’t Barton know of the work you are doing?” she asked.
If she had contact with Barton... “Of course, he knows. He’s one of my contacts.” The floor around him shifted, and he lost balance. If Barton contacted her, then why had he gone to him?
Leera covered her mouth, eyes open wide. “This can’t be happening.” She sunk both hands into her hair. “He told me you worked for the CIA. That you were sent to investigate Peter and Rowley through me. I was to allow your advances. So, as of this very moment, none of this makes any sense. Nor can I trust anything the man said to me.”
Yet for the first time in weeks, all the pieces were falling into place. “Did you tell him about me? The changes?” If the feds knew his kind could be changed back, it would put them all in danger.
“No.” She frowned.
“Why not? You had no reason to keep that from him.” He stepped toward her. Quite the opposite, because she believed he’d killed Jean–she had every reason to tell Barton.
“I don’t know.” She rested her hands on the counter behind her, accenting her feminine form. How could he look at her this way, when she wanted nothing to do with him?
“You don’t know, or you don’t want to say?” He imposed his body against her, wanting to touch and feel her against him. “Which is it?”
Her strained stare met his. “He repulses me.” She spun, turning her back to him.
“He fucking touched you, didn’t he?”
Silence.
All the answer he needed. “I’ll kill Barton with my bare hands when I get a hold of him.” That meant that everything Vaihan shared with her was lie. An act on her part to gain his trust.
“He isn’t worth it.”
“No, but you are. Even if you hate me.” He pressed into her, rested his profile against the skin of her neck. “I wish I could make this all go away for you.” His lips skidded upward to her hairline. “I don’t care that everything you shared with me was a ploy for me to let my guard down. I love you, even for that.” More and more of what they shared made sense, like the risk she’d taken the night of her birthday. She’d wanted a way out. Or how she’d gone to Rowley after and stayed, despite what the bastard was doing to her.
“It wasn’t all a ploy.”
“What parts weren’t?” He wanted her to make him believe it wasn’t.
Leera melted into his chest, angling her face to him, and skimmed his jaw with her lips. “My wanting you was real. I struggled with the guilt of knowing that by being with you, I could ultimately give him information that could compromise you.”
“I’m not innocent in all this. I too, was sent by Barton to use you to get close to Peter and find out if he was helping fund Rowley’s operation. I was curious as to why. Went in intending to figure out what exactly Homeland Security was up to. I found myself unable to resist how I felt for you.”
“So the feds didn’t have proof that Peter was helping fund Rowley’s activities, or that he was soliciting senators to support terrorist activities.” She grabbed her stomach. “I’m going to be sick.”
There was his answer. Leera had agreed to take part to protect Peter. “You did this for your brother.”
“He’s the only family I have. Despite our strained relationship, I would do anything for my brother. And what did it matter, if the feds disposed of me when everything was said and done? I was already dead.”
None of this had anything to do with the Waltzs. Leera was just a means to an end. A way of bridging the gap between Barton’s targets, him and Rowley. But why them?
“I’m sorry you were put through this.” He cupped her face, lifting her to him. “You have nothing to feel ashamed about.”
She’d yet to pull away from him.
Hunger raced to his cock, and he brushed his lips against hers, parting them. He suckled one then the other. Her tongue teased the inner side of his mouth. The candlelight flickered in the cool, dark space, and a contrast of shadows and warm glows bathed the angles of her face. Air misted between them in white puffs from their labored breathing.
“I belong to you.” He looped the button of her pants and lowered the zipper. An instinctual, automatically primal demand took him over. One he could not remember sensing. “And I need you.”
Her slacks pooled at her feet. “Don’t think. Just do.”
He nipped, rubbed, and suckled her lips as he freed his cock from his pants. Lacy panties were the last barrier keeping him from possessing her, and fingers tucked beneath the garment, he pushed the fabric from her slick labia. He bent his knees and angled toward her outer lips so he could slip into her opening. Hot. Wet. Ready. With a hand to her hip, he pulled her down his length. Leera’s sultry eyes flew open in the mirror and stared into him. He reached around front, under the lace and strummed the slippery bead of her clitoris. She rested her hands on each side of the sink and her swollen red lips parted as she gasped. With a sharp, demanding thrust, he deepened his intrusion. The tight walls of her core surrounded his shaft. A pink flush spread over her cheekbones. She shifted beneath the strokes of his fingers. Her inner muscles pulsed around his length, drawing him to climax. Nothing of consequence, except her, existed to him.
“Vaihan.” The surface of her eyes looked glazed with bliss. Her arms shook, supporting her.
He wrapped his other hand around her, lifting her to his chest. Her head dropped back, and faster, he thrust into her.
Heat burst, radiating out, and he spilled his semen into her. “Leera.” He rested his
face on her shoulder. Slowly, he withdrew from her and stepped back. He didn’t regret what he’d just shared with her.
Leera pulled up her pants, turned and fixed her gaze on the floor. “They are going to bomb the Undead Valentine’s Ball tomorrow, kill the president and frame you.”
He put his dick back in his pants. “I suspected as much.” Once he was sure Leera was somewhere safe, he could figure out a way to stop them. “I can’t stop this, if I have to worry you might get hurt. I need a clear head.”
“I don’t want to add to the stress.” As if a chill had brushed her skin, she rubbed her forearm.
For once she was going to do as he requested of her. “I’ll drop you off at Errol and Dominique’s cabin. You can stay with them, until I come for you.”
Chapter 55
Leera followed Vaihan to the truck and climbed in. Night had fallen. A blue tone glistened on the snow, reminding her of his skin the first night they’d met. What had just happened? She wasn’t sure it meant anything to him. He had said he would come for her, but was he just saying that, or did he mean it? That it mattered, more than she could have ever comprehended, made her vision blur with tears.
Should she tell him what she’d suspected for the past few days? How would he feel if the child was Rowley’s? If she was pregnant, she didn’t know who the father was–Devin and she had been intimate, too, since her return. Maybe it was one thing if the child was a donor’s or a stranger’s. But what if one of the two men intent on killing him had fathered it? Could he still love her baby? She might not have another chance if she didn’t have this child.
As Vaihan climbed into his seat, cold wind gusted. What if she never saw him again? She was working herself up.
“Everything is going to work itself out.” He brushed her hair from her face. “Trust me.”
For better or worse, it would all be over soon. She buckled in then tugged the strap twice.
“Thank you.” Vaihan hit the Lock button for the doors, turned the key, put the vehicle into gear and backed out onto the road. He shifted and sped up. “They have a place on the north side of the lake across from mine. It should be empty. The key will be in the hanging flowerpot under the soil.”
No one but him would know where she was. “Key, flowerpot, soil. Got it.”
He covered her hand with his and squeezed. She wasn’t doing a good job of hiding her anxiousness.
“Are you human?”
“Nearly completely. When the last of my scar fades from my chest, I will be restored.” He glanced in the rearview and eased his foot off the gas.
The truck slowed. A car behind sped up into the oncoming traffic lane and maneuvered past them.
That meant losing him was a real possibility. Not one she wanted to face. “Why would you want to be like us?”
“For you, Leera. To be the man you need.” His gaze darted to the side mirror as a car sped up behind them. “This deserted road isn’t so deserted.”
Out the back window, a car followed too close.
The car jerked, bopping her around.
Vaihan’s arm strapped over her. “Shit.”
Should she, or shouldn’t she add more to the situation? What if they both died? A roaring was followed by a jolt, as the car behind rammed them.
“Vaihan.”
“Yes, Leera?”
“I think I’m pregnant.”
The car swerved, his mouth dropped open and he blinked. “I’ll do my best to protect you both.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to run one of them off the road with us. The other I’m going to have to eliminate while driving. I need you to take the wheel.” He let go of the steering wheel.
Shit! She leaned over and grabbed on.
Vaihan lowered his window, as he withdrew two guns from his holster.
The entire time he’d been armed. Evidently, there was a lot she didn’t know about him.
“Steady.” He leaned his torso out the driver’s side of the car and pushed his foot heavily on the gas.
Sure thing. Who the hell was he? Seventy miles an hour, on an icy road in a high speed chase... Just call her Bonnie to his Clyde.
A man popped out from the passenger side of the car in front and fired. Leera ducked.
Vaihan fired, and the man slumped out of the window. After this, they needed to have a serious talk, as she didn’t know much about him. Contract work, her ass.
The vehicle behind plowed into them from behind, her grip slipped and the truck veered off.
“Leera...”
“Sorry.” She grabbed the steering wheel and steadied the vehicle.
In front, the car swerved side to side.
“When he goes right, we go left, get it?”
Sure, she could do that. She nodded. Darkness surrounded them, but for the headlights. As the vehicle in front slid to the left, she didn’t move.
“Leera?”
“Trust me.”
Vaihan nodded.
“Floor it.” She veered the car into the left lane. Thankfully, there was no oncoming traffic as they approached a narrow two-lane bridge.
He leaned further out and got off a shot. The car whirled, gliding to a semicrescent. “Hold on.” Landing against the driver’s seat, he hit the brakes, and rotated the steering wheel. The truck spun a hundred forty-five degrees.
Vaihan covered her with his body facing out and fired off his guns. The vehicle met with the front of the truck head on. The airbags deployed.
* * * *
Every muscle and bone ached in a symphony of pain. Leera opened her eyes. Water trickled nearby. Out her window, larger snowflakes fell in a slow cascade. Her head felt wet. Blood coated the fingers she retracted from her temple.
“Vaihan?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Wind shrieked through the cracks in the glass. A body lay contorted on the hood. Gleaming dark pools surrounded the form.
Leera released her seat belt and crawled forward. “Vaihan.” She pressed his torso.
“Leera, did Barton give you anything? A phone?”
Shit. That was how he had tracked them. She pulled the cell out of her pants pocket and tossed it into the creek.
“Are you mobile?” she asked.
“I want you to go to the farm house and call Peter. He will know what to do.”
“You have to come with me.” No way would she leave him.
“I can’t. I can’t move my legs.”
This couldn’t be happening. “I’m not leaving.” She rolled him over.
“You are so stubborn. You’re in shock. Adrenaline will only last a short while. You need to use the burst of energy to get out of here.”
“I won’t go.” She unbuttoned his jacket.
He chuckled through a raspy caught. “This is no time to get kinky.”
“Not funny.” She gripped both sides of his dress shirt and popped the buttons. In the dark, none of his scar was still visible. Shit. What if he was already human? She had to try. A few yards in front, the other car lay turned over. She slipped off the hood.
Cold bit her, burning her cheeks. The driver appeared dead. Shot. The other man groaned. She opened the door through the broken window.
A moan of misery escaped him. Blood gushed from his head.
Reaching over him, she unlatched his seat belt. She took hold of his jacket and pulled him out. He slammed onto the snow with grunt. Arms looped around his legs, she tugged him in the snow. Sweat trickled under her clothing. Next to the front wheel of the Montana, she stopped.
“Vaihan, I’m going to ease you down.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.
He flung open his eyes. “What are you still doing here?”
With her hands under his back, she heaved him upright and forced his weight onto her. She stumbled backward and crashed to the ground with him on top of her.
“The baby, Leera.”
“Snow broke our fall.” She turned him onto his side, facing the injured man
. “You need to eat.”
“What?”
“You heard me. If you don’t eat, you and I are going to die.” And the baby.
“I can’t, Leera. I haven’t had the urge in days. I don’t even crave the taste. I can’t do this.”
She kissed his mouth, tasting blood–his mortality, his fallibility. Tongue to his, she savored knowing the taste and feel of him, then pulled back. “I’m going to be in the cab of the truck waiting for you to rescue me. Either the cold or those after us will get to me.” She stood, opened the door, lay against the seat and tugged her coat closed.
“Leeee...raaa!” Vaihan shouted.
She shut her eyes tight.
A shrill cry set the hairs on her arms to attention.
She covered her ears and hummed. Twinkle, twinkle little star... Fatigue seeped into her bones, and she shut her eyes.
Chapter 56
Vaihan stroked Leera’s hair and her eyelashes fluttered. Her head rested in his lap. A yellow aura pulsed around her. She was with child. Eleven hours she’d been out cold. Peter had reported her missing. And guess who was named as a person of interest? His reputation was dwindling by the hour.
In the rearview mirror, a monster stared back at him. His corpse-pale skin held a pigment of blue. The urge gripped him with the intensity of a starving undead. After he’d ingested his first morsel, the frenzy had taken over. What if he’d been returned to the state of an undead newborn? He could have hurt her.
Nowhere was safe. Already he’d changed–“borrowed”–cars twice. Streets were deserted as the city was on curfew. The ball would start shortly.
“Vaihan.” She sprung her eyes open.
“Yes, Leera.” He guided her upright. The next few moments would help him decide what was best for her.
She cupped his face and pressed her nose to his. “I love you.” Warm lips pressed to his with a tremble. “I’d thought I lost you.”
“And I you, beaute.” Awe better described his feelings toward her. She had saved him. Frost misted the interior of the late-model Ford. “We cannot linger too long or someone will make note.” Nor could he have left her anywhere. He had stopped to retrieve more weapons and ammo.